


lessons revisited

by Soulykins



Series: Lessons 'verse [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Good Brother Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug, they all need hugs tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:39:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulykins/pseuds/Soulykins
Summary: Sequel to lessons learned!The Hargreeves find out some of the lengths Five went to as a child to protect them as well as he could or extend a hand to show he cared. It's year too late but - it's never really too late to show your sibling how much you love and appreciate them, right?





	1. scribbles

**Author's Note:**

> this chapter fought me the entire way holy heck i give up it can do what it wants from now on rip
> 
> but yeah Vanya deserves better, Grace deserves SO much better, Reggie can suck a dick, and Klaus and Ben remember a day they're probably rather have left forgotten tbh
> 
> if u see any typos or errors holler my way so I can correct them ;3c

It’s a loud day in the Hargreeves mansion, full of bustle and the sounds of things being dropped more than once.

Because they were finally getting off their asses and clearing out one of the many rooms within the manor that lay unused and waiting. Finally putting together a room for the one individual in the house that Reginald Hargreeves had never seen fit to grace with their own space.

It was Mom’s ‘birthday’ or, as she put it, her date of activation, and they’d decided (well, Diego had pretty firmly put his foot down) that she deserved her own bedroom. Goodness knows they had enough of them to spare one for the woman who had essentially raised them.

Mom has smiled at them and told them she didn’t need it, told them she was happy enough, but easily and happily accepted the gift anyway with a smile that said she really was pleased and touched at the gesture. They’d already had a whole trip to more than one furniture store as they escorted Mom around, her arm daintily linked with Diego’s as she picked out modern end tables.

Which was what led them to the current moment, with Diego swearing up a storm as he attempted to put together a wardrobe while staring balefully at the instructions as Luther and Allison skirted around that disaster in the making to clear out the old stuff.

Five, Klaus, and Vanya, meanwhile, were working together in the living room clipping out a variety of landscapes and pictures to make a collage for one of Mom’s walls of all kinds of beautiful places that maybe one day they’d all get to go and see. They held up each picture to meet with Mom’s approval, after Diego banned her from helping set up the room herself since it was supposed to be a gift.

It was an accident that they found them at all. 

Luther was holding some chest of drawers up in his arms and heading out the door and didn’t spot the screwdriver that had rolled away from Diego’s hold as he wrestled with a peg and swore at a leaflet of instructions vibrantly. Luther put his foot down directly on the screwdriver and his foot shot out from under him, and the whole kit and kaboodle just went… toppling down.

There was a loud crash as both Luther and the drawers hit the ground hard, Luther shouting in alarm and the resulting crash echoed through the house.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Allison swore, immediately running to her brother’s aid. Luther was already sitting up, blinking as if wondering what the hell had happened, but clearly not too hurt.

The drawers, on the other hand, were a complete lost cause. The wood had split down one side, the drawers had shot out as they fell and dumped their contents literally everywhere. Papers and little trinkets littered the floor.

“What the fuck!” Diego barked, having scrambled backwards out of the splash zone and now looking at the consequences of his own carelessness with the tools. Because now all the little nuts and bolts had been knocked about. “Look what you’ve done!”

Luther looked deeply offended as he got back up, “It’s not my fault. If you hadn’t left your shit everywhere - ”

The wrong thing to say as Diego immediately shot something back about feet and clumsiness.

There was some concerned calls from down the stairs, and Allison rolled her eyes at her brothers’ antics but still yelled back downstairs that everything was fine. That something had just been dropped.

With that established, Allison stooped down to at least make an attempt to clean up and found herself with a handful of childish scribbles. Stick figures and stick dogs and yellow suns in the corner of the pages, the whole nine yards. It looks like something her own daughter would make for her, the sort of ones that back when she and Patrick had been together would be hanged on the fridge with colorful magnets.

And at the corner of each drawing was a bold scribbled _‘5ive.’_

She stared dumbly for a second before whipping around papers in hand. Her idiot brothers had progressed to wrestling on the floor at some point while she wasn’t paying attention, but that didn’t matter right now.

“Guys!” She hissed at them, waving the papers like a flag.

They froze, Diego’s arms locked around Luther’s neck and Luther’s hands prying at Diego’s as they both stared at their sister uncomprehendingly.

As an answer, she shoved the papers towards them, forcing them apart at the same time so they could receive her offers. Hey, never let it be said that Allison couldn’t multitask, and she had _years_ of experience trying to get these idiots to work together.

Diego’s brow immediately furrowed as he picked himself off the floor, studying the ‘artwork’ given to him. “Are these - ”

“Five?” Luther asked, equally puzzled looking and tapping at the scrawled signature that was the same across every drawing.

Allison grinned and nodded her head, picking up some more papers with a gleeful smile. Not all of them contained the childish artwork, some were just boring pieces of mail or other things that had been shoved into the drawers over the years, but honestly there wasn’t an insignificant number.

“Oh my god,” Allison cooed, showing them one she’d just picked up. It was clearly a picture of Grace drawn in blue crayon, showing their robot caretaker smiling and holding hands with a smaller stick figure who appeared for be holding a sword. They were carefully labelled ‘m0m’ and ‘2wo’ in the same blue crayon, with the 0 in mom having a line through it the way they all knew their brother still drew his zeroes.

“Is that _me?_ ” Diego gaped, abandoning the drawing he had in his hands in order to snatch the one from Allison’s. Again, in the corner, was a little ‘5ive’ to indicate exactly who the artist was. 

Suddenly the argument was forgotten, the fall was forgotten, even the decorating was forgotten as the trio picked up the mess and showed each other the various drawings they found. Around half of them were in blue, and Allison wondered if that was her brother’s favorite color.

All of the ones in blue usually featured Mom in some capacity, sometimes with the kids and sometimes without. Young Five seemed to always draw Luther flexing his arms like a strongman, which had Diego giggling madly. Allison always had a smile in the drawings, which made her smile for real.

But the ones that weren’t in blue - they all had something in common as well, and it wasn’t Mom.

There weren’t many, but the colorful drawings all featured Vanya prominently front and center. There were sometimes messages to go with the signatures, and Allison’s blood froze in her veins when she picked up one that pictured a smiling Vanya on what looked like it was supposed to be a swingset which said ‘miS u Get BetR Soon’ across the top.

There was only one occasion when they were kids that Allison could remember that Vanya was sick and the rest of them weren’t, and it was an occasion that Vanya wasn’t actually sick at all. 

“You know,” A familiar voice drawled from the doorway, “It’s been suspiciously quiet up here, are we being slacker mcslackers up here?”

All three siblings glanced up to see Klaus draped across the doorway, Ben visible and hovering behind him.

Then Klaus got an eyeful of what they were actually doing, holding both hands up to his face and gasping with delight. “Are those baby scribbles?” He asked, eagerly surging forward and seizing a paper from Luther’s hands while Ben sighed and followed his lanky sibling through the door.

“Are these _Five’s_?” Klaus exclaimed far too loudly, making everyone in the room wince and look towards the door. Klaus didn’t even notice and grabbed another paper off the floor and coming to a sudden stand still.

Ben, who was right by Klaus’s shoulder, blinked a few times. “Hey, I think I remember that one.”

It was three figures, all done in different styles in black pen. If compared with the other papers, it was easy to see Five’s distinct style on the middle figure. The other ones were different, and it was easy to see why because they were also labelled with very different handwriting.

4our, 5ive, 6ix.

Before anyone had a chance to address that though, an irritated voice sounded, “What are you idiots doing now?”

Five, Vanya, and Mom were all looking in at the minor devastation. Five looked annoyed, Vanya just looked like she’d rather be back downstairs, and Mom smiled at them all fondly.

“I’ll go get the dustpan.” Mom said, turning on her heel and exiting again, leaving the rest of the family standing around awkwardly.

“Uh,” Luther looked at the other siblings, wincing when none of them would look him in the eyes. They only had maybe a minute to defuse this before Five realized exactly what they were looking at and erupted, “I. Dropped something. It’s fine.”

Allison quickly nodded, pressing the papers she was holding against her chest where no one could see their contents, “You guys just go back downstairs! We’ve got clean up.”

Five gave them all distinctly unimpressed looks, because clearly they’d all grown up to be fucking terrible liars. They were even worse than usual, honestly. 

“Then why,” Five asked dryly, stepping further into the room and getting some amusement when everyone looked slightly more panicked, “Did I hear Klaus distinctly say my name?”

Luther, Allison, and Diego all shot glares in Klaus’s direction, who immediately looked guilty. “You must have heard wrong!” Klaus insisted badly, “I said - I said hives! All this dust, giving me hives you know? It’s like Dad never touched these rooms in a million years I swear!”

Klaus itched frantically at his arms to demonstrate but the unimpressed look Five was giving him made it clear that he was unconvinced.

“I wonder what you’re all so eager to hide.” Five drawled, and at his siblings sudden insistence that there was absolutely nothing to hide oh no, Five smirked. “Then surely you won’t mind some help - ?”

Denials were spilling out of their mouths but it was already too late and Five had swept up one of the last pieces of paper on the floor.

A wobbly drawing of a little girl drawn in blue crayon, old creases marring the paper and tearstains in one corner. 

Five frowned, looking up at all his siblings who seemed to be holding their breaths. “That’s it? You found some of Vanya’s old things? I thought this was something important.”

With that said, he handed the drawing to a _very_ confused looking Vanya.

She looked down at the drawing, looking back up at the room as a whole and then looking back down again. “Five I - ” Vanya hesitated, “This isn’t mine? I mean, it’s of me but - it’s yours. Your signature - ”

“What are you talking about?” Five scoffed, waving a hand carelessly, “I gave it to you, so it was yours to do whatever you wanted. I don’t care that you stuffed them in some random drawer if that’s what you’re worried about. They aren’t even good.”

“You never gave me this?” Vanya clutched the drawing tighter, voice raising in confusion. The rest of the siblings were watching as if at a tennis matching, staring at one sibling and then the other. “Five, I’ve never seen this before, I swear.”

Five’s brow furrowed in confusion, eyes scanning across the wreckage, “No. I - you were sick.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room.

“You were sick,” Five insisted, “So we couldn’t see you. So we drew you pictures so you wouldn’t be so lonely - ”

“We?” Klaus blurted out, making Ben smack him in alarm. 

“Four’s best at drawing.” The statement was confident, as if something Five had learned by rote a long time ago. He didn’t even seem to notice that he hadn’t used Klaus’s name, or that it had been Klaus’s question he was responding to in the first place. Five’s face was scrunched up in thought, remembering something from a long time ago. “We got in trouble when you were better, we wanted to draw you something to welcome you back and we - we drew on the wall. Dad caught us.”

“I remember that,” Ben interjected this time, eyes wide as he poked at Klaus. “It was - it was you and me and Five. Dad was so mad.”

“He hit us.” Klaus responded, looking at his hands. He also remembered that specific day, or rather he remembered the pain at least. He hadn’t remembered that it had been on the day Vanya came back from the room. Suddenly that time seemed so much more insidious. 

“Yeah!” Five pointed at them triumphantly, looking slightly relieved that he wasn’t misremembering things. “We didn’t get dinner, he sent us to our rooms remember? But I saved a crayon and drew a picture on my own.”

A gesture towards the drawing clutched in Vanya’s white knuckled grip.

“I couldn’t hold the crayon right because my hand.” Five shrugged apologetically, and Klaus and Ben both winced in sympathy.

“Five.” Vanya’s voice was tense, “I never got any of these.”

“That can’t be right,” Five protested, “I gave them all to - to - ” A heartbeat of silence as Five stared at the floor, “- to Mom. To give to you.”

As if summoned by her very name, Grace took that moment to waltz back into the room with dustpan in hand. As one, every person in the room turned to face her with wide eyes. “Why, whatever is the matter?” She asks cheerfully, reading the room at least a little.

“Mom,” Vanya swallowed, “Do you - do you know anything about these?”

“About what, silly?” Mom responded easily. 

Diego silently got up and handed her the drawings that had ended up in his hands.

Mom flipped through them, her robotic face softening in a fond expression that was becoming slowly familiar to all of them as she slowly shook off more and more of Reginald’s programming.

“Five says they were for me.” Vanya said simply, staring at Mom with a carefully blank face, “But I never got them.”

Mom sighed, looking actually regretful. “Oh, your father forbade any contact between you and the others. But they were such lovely drawings, and your father never told me to throw them out. And then he banned drawing altogether and told me to dispose of any you made. So I did, I disposed of them into this room out of sight.”

There’s a moment of silence before blue shimmered in the air and Five had vanished.

“Oh dear,” Mom sighed.

There were tears in Vanya’s eyes and she sniffled slightly, “I didn’t - I thought you guys didn’t even notice I was gone.”

“Oh Vanya,” Allison went to his sister and pulled her into a hug, “I’m so sorry. I am _so_ sorry.”

They both knew she was apologizing for more than just not receiving some drawings. There was a lot to unpack about the week Vanya had been ‘sick’ between them all, and it was the worst between Allison and Vanya. They’d only been four, they hadn’t known any better than to obey their father but - it was still a sticking point.

Actually, come to think of it, had any of that been explained to Five? He hadn’t been present for Luther’s announcement and reveal of Vanya’s powers and the deaths of the nannies and had only been filled in after the fact, in a hurried manner that had glossed over a lot of details.

“Not all of them were meant for Vanya,” Mom told them, collecting the papers from Allison and the other siblings into a neat pile in her hands, “Afterwards, some were for me. I told him about the rules and he told me that if he gave them to me that made them my drawings, and that your father hadn’t given any orders regarding my drawings. He’s always been such a clever child.”

“That sounds like Five,” Luther offered hesitantly to the room, making at least a small attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Diego snorted, “Yeah, always finding loopholes. Dad was always holding him up as an example for adapting.”

Klaus though was shaking his head, looking irritated. It was Ben, however, that spoke up for the pair of them. “No. No Dad - he punished Five for it, a lot. Remember when Five organized that sleepover, because Dad never said which bedrooms we had to go to? Or the time when he left the house when Dad told him to get out? He came back a few hours later but then we didn’t see him for days and he was really messed up.”

“Ben’s point is - we remember the times he got praised but Dad was a nitpicky bastard.” Klaus grumbled.

“I have an idea.” Vanya’s quiet voice caught everyone’s attention as she stared with red-rimmed eyes. “A quick fuck you to Dad.”

“I’m in.” Klaus agreed automatically, and the rest followed suit.

 

(Hours later, when Five finally ventured back downstairs to grab food, he couldn’t help but pause as he entered the kitchen.

Because there were his drawings, hung right up there on the fridge. And they weren’t alone.

The fridge was plastered in drawings, none of them especially talented but clearly with more attention to detail and anatomy than his four-year-old self’s attempts. All of them signed with his siblings names in the corners - their actual names, not their numbers.

It was an acknowledgement of his efforts. Years upon years late but - despite that Five still felt a bit of a sting behind his eyes.

He grabbed his snack and jumped back to his room, a smile resting in the corner of his mouth.

And if in Vanya’s room, a crinkled drawing of a wobbly blue little girl was tacked to the wall as a reminder that she was always loved and missed - well. That was nobody’s business but her own.)


	2. breakfast ambush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five wasn't expecting the breakfast confrontation over his name (or lack thereof).
> 
> He just doesn't understand why his siblings _care_ so much.
> 
> (His name was a reminder, a tie to his family that he couldn't bear to part with. He was Five. There were four before him and two after him, a constant memorial to the family that he had tried so desperately to save. It was the only thing that was really real in a world that existed at the end of days. He was Five and Five was him, why was that so difficult to understand?)

Sometimes, Five calls his siblings by their numbers. It’s something he’s always done, even if he corrects himself right after. 

Or well, he mixes up _some_ of their names with numbers. The lower ranked half of the siblings. It’s not Diego, Luther, or Allison that he refers to by their numbers when he’s not thinking. It’s Klaus and Ben and Vanya.

There’s part of his brain that still functions on the basis of Four-Five-Six and Five-Six-Seven, still the tiny part of him that clings to their order because on some level he misses when they were tiny and didn’t know any better than to accept the fact that they had numbers for names. They stacked together, sequential and wonderful. 

He’d always liked numbers, liked the shape of them when drawing, liked the idea that every problem had a solution. He’d liked being called Five, because it signaled that he was part of a collective whole. Was fifth in the family, there were his siblings before him and there were his siblings after him.

He couldn’t be Five unless there were four others preceding him, after all.

In the end, he didn’t give much thought to his own name. It was so normal to him that he forgot more often than not that it might seem strange to other people. No one in the Commission had ever said anything to him about it.

So when he found himself scowling up at a police officer as they pulled a face and asked for his ‘ _real_ name please, sweetheart,’ he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with the situation.

He should have never let Diego and Klaus drag him into this. It was Diego’s fault for deciding that swinging by a crime scene was more important than dropping off his brothers first and now both Diego _and_ Klaus had vanished on him and he had to talk to the police’s village idiot.

Should he just - jump away? But Allison kept telling him that was ‘rude’ and was ‘avoidant behavior’ and that it was ‘indicative of a deeper problem’ or whatever. 

So here he was, at a literal crime scene, with a very concerned looking officer staring at him like he was a lost child or something. Which he _wasn’t_ , he just wasn’t a hundred percent sure where his brothers were at the present moment. 

“My name _is_ Five.” He was so tired of this circular conversation.

“Alright honey,” The police officer sighed deeply, as if _he_ was the one who was being difficult in this conversation. “Did you lose your parents? Are they around here?”

“No.” Five frowned. He was thirteen - surely teenagers were afforded some level of autonomy? Or maybe that was when they hit driving age or something. Okay, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was wandering around an active crime scene. Could be that.

The cop sighed again, and honestly Five didn’t know what her problem was. He’d been nothing but honest in this interaction so far. “Can you call your dad or something to come and collect you? I can’t in good conscience just let you walk home by yourself at night.”

Somehow Five felt that informing her that he was fully capable of hotwiring a car and driving himself home should his idiot brothers forget him wouldn’t exactly go down well. 

(It had taken Luther several days to figure out that Five had stolen the van he used for surveillance, which honestly said nothing good about his brother’s observation skills. What was Five supposed to have done, gotten a rental? As if anyone would rent to him in this stupid body. But there had been a long conversation involved about ‘the law’ and ‘stealing is wrong’ and ‘sometimes things belong to other people’ and it was a whole ordeal that Five would rather not repeat.)

But there was a question in there he could answer, and so he did. “My Dad’s dead.”

The cop’s face crumbled, “Oh I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Five waved a hand dismissively, “He was an asshole. We’re glad he’s gone.”

Her face went through a complicated series of expressions before she seemed to decide to latch onto the last part of his statement. “We? Who’s we?”

“My siblings.” Five answered honestly. 

“Are they your legal guardians?” There was an almost desperate edge to the officer’s voice now, and Five almost felt pity for her. But her question did make him think. Did he even legally exist anymore? Had Reginald had him legally declared dead? 

He was almost positive that even if they revealed that he was back, people would hear “time travel” and see him as a thirteen-year-old and put two and two together to make five. Even his own siblings hadn’t believed him at first about anything. Hell, Vanya had all but implied he’d made the whole thing up because time travel messed with your mind. 

(He knew it wasn’t fake though, he had shown up in a literal suit that was too big for him. If he’d just travelled from that dinner to the week before the apocalypse, wouldn’t be have shown up in his uniform? But then again, he’d already figured out that his absence had seemingly degraded his family’s observation skills into the negatives. They’d have to work on that.)

Legally speaking he _would_ need a guardian if he was to be officially declared a person again. He assumed that Grace’s legal status would be… questionable at best. Which did leave his siblings, but the idea of any of them having any kind of legal power over him made his skin prickle.

Thankfully though he didn’t end up having to answer that question as he heard his name being shouted. Diego and Klaus were making a beeline over to him.

“There’s my brothers now.” Five informed the officer, grateful for the distraction.

“Diego?” The officer sounded surprised. Clearly she knew his brother, which wasn’t a shock. The majority of the police force seemed familiar with Diego, and while things had been tense for a while after Detective Patch’s untimely death, it seemed like the force was slowly warming to his vigilante sibling again. Then she blinked, “Oh shit - yeah, your dad. I totally forgot. Shit, sorry man. That was just a really shitty week for you, huh?”

Diego drew up beside them, looking confused. The officer barrelled on, “You didn’t tell us you got custody of your little brother though. Shit, I didn’t even know you _had_ a little brother.”

“Yeah, uh.” Diego tried to exchange a look with Klaus, but Klaus was looking into thin air with a grin, presumably hearing Ben making comments. “It’s not, you know, something I talked about really. Hadn’t spoken to Dad in uh, ten years and all.”

The officer clucked in sympathy before she seemed to remember exactly where they were and she immediately frowned disapprovingly. “Diego Hargreeves! Tell me right now that you aren’t dragging your baby brother around a crime scene.”

“Allie - ” Diego scratched the back of his head. Oh look, the officer had a name. 

Not waiting for an answer, she smacked his shoulder looking irritated. “You go home right now, Diego. You have responsibilities now! You have to set a good example for fucks sake.” She paused, hand coming up to cover her mouth, “Uh, for fudge’s sake, that is.”

Klaus’s shoulders were shaking with barely contained laughter and Five remained absolutely unimpressed with this entire situation. Diego just looked baffled. 

Five was a retired _assassin_ , he was pretty sure he could handle a fucking swear word. 

“Right.” Diego said awkwardly, gesturing towards where they’d parked the car. “I guess we’ll just - ”

He immediately ushered both Klaus and Five in the direction of the car while Allie pointed at them threateningly. “A role model, Diego!” She hollered after their retreating forms, “I better not be seeing you loitering around again! Don’t make me arrest you!”

They at least managed to duck into the car before Klaus completely lost it and burst into loud laughter, clutching at a shoulder the other two couldn’t see. “A good example!” Klaus cackled between laughter, “Role models - ”

“Shut up.” Five hissed smacking his brother irritably, “It’s not _funny_.”

“Au contraire, baby brother mine!” Klaus crowed gleefully, eyes sparkling, “It’s hilarious! Can you imagine our wonderful brother actually taking care of a real child?”

The thought was, admittedly, a somewhat absurd one. Babies loved Diego, always staring at with wide eyes and waving with chubby fists, but Diego was awkward at best with them. However, when they graduated from drooling lumps into small beings capable of speech, they made Diego somehow even _more_ uncomfortable. And they could sense that, and use it ruthlessly to their advantage.

The hit a stop light and Diego twisted around in his seat to pin Five with a glare that actually had him wilting just a little bit. “And what was that back there? I thought I told you to stick close! Why were you talking with Allie?”

Five could feel his metaphorical hackles raise defensively as he crossed his arms. “It’s not my fault you guys just ran off. There was a crowd!” Yeah, no, he wasn’t about to admit that his height had played a definite role in his losing them. Not even if they tortured him. The teasing he’d get for that alone would cause a murder, and not his own.

“And when I tried to find you - she just stopped me! Started asking me questions ‘n shit. She wasn’t even good at it.” Five scowled.

“What does that mean?” Diego asked, eyes back on the road.

Five threw his hands in the air, only just missing Klaus’s face. “She didn’t even believe me when I gave her my name! And then she kept asking me about my fucking parents. I mean, I am a teenager, right? I didn’t change into a fucking toddler while I wasn’t looking?”

“That’s would be terrifying.” Klaus muttered, eyes glazing over as he clearly pictured the horror scene that would be an even more pint sized Five. Five smacked him again for good measure.

“She was just doing her job,” Diego said firmly, but he looked thoughtful about something.

Five scowled again as Klaus’s elbow bumped against him. They hadn’t had much time when jumping into Diego’s car, so no one had gone around to hop into the passenger seat - which meant that Klaus was being a brat and sitting in the middle and invading Five’s space ‘cause the other seat was saved for Ben.

He had half a mind to jump into the front seat, but after one particularly memorable occasion where there had very nearly almost been an accident he’d been pretty firmly banned from jumping while in a moving vehicle unless it was life or death.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, if one discounted the mild wrestling match that ended up happening in the back seat.

(Five totally won.)

 

 

He’d pretty much forgotten about the incident by the next day when the family gathered for breakfast. Five was decidedly not an early riser and gratefully accepted the coffee that Mom handed him with a smile. 

It certainly didn’t help that he’d woken up in the middle of the night choking on ash and the smell of smoke, unable to close his eyes without seeing the rubble and corpses, the stench of rot lingering among the smoke.

(It had gotten better, eventually. But decomposing was a process, and there were billions of bodies going through it. After a while it had become normal, just been background noise unless he trod wrong on a piece of rubble and disturbed someone.)

So he wasn’t paying as much attention as perhaps he should have been, was too busy blearily looking at his scrambled eggs to notice the still thoughtful look on Diego’s face.

Diego cleared his throat, getting the attention of almost everyone at the table (Klaus continued to debate with Ben over the validity of waffles as an every day breakfast food rather than only for special occasions).

“Five,” Diego addressed his smallest brother awkwardly. 

Five had a bad feeling this conversation was going to get away from them all and just tugged his coffee closer to him in case he needed to jump away with it. “Diego,” He acknowledged.

“I was just thinking,” Diego spoke slowly, like he was rolling the words around in his mouth before spitting them out, “Do you - do you want a name?”

The entire table went silent, even Klaus.

“No.” Five denied automatically.

Diego rubbed the back of his head, “It’s just, you know, yesterday you were saying about how Allie didn’t believe you and stuff so I thought maybe it would be easier if - ”

Five cut him off, “My name is _Five_ , and your idiot coworkers can learn to deal with it.” Honestly it’s not as if it was the strangest name in the world. There were celebrities who named their children after fruits. Or directions. Goodness knows there were some very interesting thoughts floating around about the spellings of various names so as to make them undecipherable to those who still clung to their sanity.

“That’s not a name, that’s a number.” Allison cut in, setting her fork down next to her plate with a clank.

Five could feel panic claw at his chest, because - because - 

(He’d had nothing in the apocalypse to start out with. He couldn’t bring himself to root through the rubble of the academy, to try and find his box of treasures if they were even still laying beneath the floorboards. He’d started fresh, anew. He’d gotten a wagon, and Dolores, and Vanya’s book, and an eyeball, and after he found more clothes he didn’t even have his uniform left from his past. But he had his name, he always had his name. 

And when the Handler had found him, had smiled and called him _Number Five_ , it was only ever a reminder that there were four preceding him, and two after him. He was a number out of sequence, and he’d move heaven and earth to return to his family. A reminder and a comfort all in one.)

Five could feel the prickling behind his eyes as he glared down at his plate. Voice quiet and careful, “Can’t it be both?”

“Mom could give you an actual name.” Diego prodded gently, and Five hated that kindness. Would have preferred a shouting match, preferred a physical fight to this unexpected ambush. “We all liked our names, I’m sure she’ll pick out something good for you.”

Five could feel the snarl building up in his throat. Diego said it like it was already a sure thing, like this was a choice that was already being decided for him and over his head. They’d liked their names because they’d _wanted_ names. They’d wanted that measure of normalcy, something to cling to.

(It didn’t matter in the end, Dad never used their new names anyway.)

Five didn’t know if he had any allies at the table. He’d been questioned about his name (or lack thereof) before this breakfast, but he’d always shot down any suggestions to change it with extreme prejudice. He’d thought the subject had been _dropped_. 

So he looked to the only person he could, turning his eyes to the woman in question and silently asking Grace to save him.

He hadn’t begged for rescue since he was a young child. He’d found his siblings - overwhelming at times to say the least. But Mom always picked up on his silent signals and dispersed the gaggle of children to give him a break, always accepting the pictures he drew her as thanks with plastic smile.

She smiled kindly at her youngest (oldest) child, cutting off whatever Diego was opening his mouth to say with a simple, “Oh, Five never wanted a name from me.”

“The situation is a bit different now though, Mom.” Diego pointed out, looking mildly frustrated now.

Five sank down a little in his seat, wondering if it would be worth the scolding he’d get if he just jumped to his room now. It wouldn’t stop this conversation, but it would at least postpone it.

“Of course it is, silly!” Mom chirped, picking up Klaus’s empty plate from the table and walking it back over to the sink, “There’s no more siblings for your brother to give his name to, after all.”

Five sank even lower as suddenly half the eyes at the table were trained on him.

“What do you mean, Mom?” Allison was the one who asked, voice mild as milk on the surface.

Mom tilted her head, as if giving the question some thought. Or perhaps she was accessing her memory banks. “Well, he gave his name to Vanya of course. Oh! Not really his name, but he did request that Vanya receive a name in his place, which was very sweet.”

If Five sank any lower he’d be under the table. He actually did give some thought as to whether that would still be better than his current position.

“Five?” Vanya spoke up for the first time, voice wobbly with emotion. 

Yeah, no, that wouldn’t do. Five couldn’t deal with emotion this early in the morning. “It wasn’t for you,” Five lied furiously, “I just didn’t want a name. _Another_ name. There wasn’t any point. It was just a coincidence that Vanya got a name.”

Clearly he was out of practice in lying (he’d primarily worked in lies of omission since leaving home, allowing people to make their own assumptions and do the work for him) or perhaps it was simply the fact that his siblings knew him too well for comfort because they were all giving him soft look and Vanya was actually _tearing up_ and Five hated everything about the universe right now.

“Don’t be so modest, sweetheart.” Grace beamed at him unhelpfully, “You were the one who pointed out that your father had requested six names and never specified which six were to receive them. You were very helpful.”

“Shut up,” Five hissed back, bringing his hands up to cover his face. He ignored Diego’s immediate reprimand at taking that tone with their mother.

“Is it really that bad that we know you have feelings?” Luther questioned hesitantly, looking between the gathered family members with confusion evident on his face, “I mean, Vanya was your favorite even back then right? It’s not that much of a stretch.”

There were a dozen things on the tip of Five’s tongue, the automatic panic at anyone identifying that Five _liked_ something. Because anything he showed a preference for could and would be torn away from him in any of Dad’s cruel games. 

It wasn’t true, anyway. Vanya hadn’t become Five’s favorite until they were older, maybe eleven. Oh, they’d spent time together and Five was one of the few of the siblings who made it a point to not ignore her, but Five had loved all his siblings fiercely. And maybe it’s that fact he was trying to protect - that it didn’t matter which sibling had been selected to be overlooked, Five would still volunteer to give them his name in a heartbeat.

What he ended up muttering into his hands was a muffled, “Still don’t want a new name.”

“Well we aren’t going to force one on you.” Came the decisive voice of Klaus, who steamrolled over Diego and Allison’s mild objections to his statement with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. But at least it had Five lowering his hands to peer at his lankiest sibling with cautious eyes.

“Nope,” Klaus shook his head, “Ben hath spoken. Five gets a name if and _only_ if he decides that he wants one. Besides, can you even imagine Five responding to an ordinary name?”

Allison huffed, “It would just be easier - ”

Klaus cut her off with a wave of his hand, “Easier schmesier. When has this family ever done anything easy? We’re a fuckin’ mess. What’re you gonna do? _Make_ the kid respond to a new name?”

Honestly, Five was so relieved to have another sibling (siblings? Klaus had referenced Ben after all) on his side that he willingly let the ‘kid’ comment slip by without protest.

An awkward silence befell the entire table, right up until Vanya sniffled and offered Five a tiny smile. “Thank you,” She whispered, startlingly loud in the quiet of the kitchen.

Five shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, picking up his fork again to stab at his now cold eggs. “Don’t mention it.”

The subject wasn’t brought up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> weLL i like this chapter better than the last one that's for certain
> 
> it's very late,, i am very tired
> 
> if you see any spelling errors or anything yeet them my way so I can fix them!! Also if anywhere cuts off suspiciously that means i goofed in coding somewhere so also tell me about that rip


	3. cats and bears and in between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago, Five gave his bear to Klaus after Reginald tore Klaus's own away. Seventeen and forty-five years later, Five wonders what became of his old friend, and has some important questions to ask him.
> 
> He really wasn't expecting anyone to notice.

They were just walking back from lunch, Five letting the noise wash over him as his skin itched and ached. It happened often, most times his siblings insisted on taking him out and he had to deal with the general public. People were just so terribly loud, voices speaking over one another and overlapping into a buzz that burrowed its way into Five’s brain after a while.

But he was used to dealing with it, to going out and getting progressively more irritable and then locking himself in his room to calm down and decompress.

If it wouldn’t be seen as childish, Five would clap his hands over his ears to try and mute everything, but he knew that would draw the attention of his siblings and he didn’t want to deal with yet _another_ family conversation about how he wasn’t adjusting well enough for anyone’s liking.

But it was while walking back that he saw her. A little girl walking by an older one, perhaps an older sister or a cousin, who was holding up her stuffed bear and explaining loudly about how Budsy protected her at night from the monster that lived in her closet. It probably wouldn’t have caught his attention but for the fact that ‘Budsy’ looked familiar.

The little girl’s stuffed animal wasn’t an exact match for the ones that had been distributed on the Hargreeves children’s fifth birthday, but it was similar enough to make Five blink in surprise.

He hadn’t thought about Bear in _years_.

His foot catches on something as his brain freezes, rejecting the thought, and he stumbles. Thankfully he’s at the back of the pack and his siblings don’t notice. It feels - bad. Like he’s forgotten an old friend, but he’s not a child. He knows that Bear is just a stuffed animal, he was never real.

(Not in any way that mattered.)

But, then again, that was what his family said about Dolores. Not often, not in his hearing usually as they knew that even in her absence he would break their kneecaps to defend his oldest and most beloved friend. He and Dolores had broken up, true, but that didn’t mean anyone was permitted to badmouth her.

He remembers being young, sitting Bear across from him on the bed and having conversations. In so many ways, Bear had been his first friend.

(His only friend.)

There was something freeing about being able to talk to and play with someone who wasn’t his siblings. Bear never laughed after training sessions when all Five could do was hiccup and cry and ask why Dad didn’t love them. Bear never protested when Five would draw him in for a hug, never called him babyish like Luther did, or a brat like Allison did, or a show-off like Klaus occasionally muttered when he thought Five couldn’t hear.

But Klaus had needed Bear more than Five had, and so Five had given away his friend.

And it had _hurt_. Because suddenly there wasn’t soft fabric paws to wipe away his tears, or kind listening ears when his siblings laughed at his latest attempts to bring attention to himself, or wise eyes that never asked him to dumb himself down or talk slower or stop using big words. Five remembers carefully placing soft fabric arms over his shoulders in one of the few hugs and comforts he was permitted in the walls of the manor, where weakness was blood in the water and everyone was a shark in their own way.

(They’d been so desperate for scraps of love and attention that sometimes they were all too willing to tear one another apart to get it. Of course, Reginald had planned it that way - he did so love pitting them against one another so that they would hate each other instead of him, so they would never turn against him and bite the hand that fed them.)

Five frowned to himself, because he didn’t know what had become of the various childish objects they’d accumulated over the years. He hadn’t seen anyone’s stuffed animals laying around, but most of them had still had them when he’d left at thirteen (all except Luther - he never discussed what happened with Star the bear and none of them, to Five’s knowledge, had ever asked). But they were just becoming teenagers, their whole lives ahead of them. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that they’d outgrown something as childish as stuffed animals.

Five thought of Klaus throwing Bear away, and felt anxiety stab at his heart.

Without Five noticing, they’d arrived at the house. He was too deep in thought. But it gave him the perfect excuse, and so he jumped like he always did when they got back from forced family bonding time, the blue glow usually signaling his escaping to his room until they called him down for dinner.

Usually.

He didn’t jump to his room, he stumbled out of his jump into Klaus’s room. It was a mess, as per usual. Leather pants on the floor, the bed unkempt and unmade, the closet door hanging open and half of the clothes in it just thrown on the floor where Klaus had rooted through to find his latest iconic outfit. Five had been in here before, to drag his brother out of bed.

(To press a shaking hand against Klaus’s throat to make sure his heart still beat, the steady thump-thump chasing away the nightmares of pale ash-strewn faces accusing him of failing, accusing him of letting them die.)

Yes, Five had been in here before - and like those times before he noticed no presence of a stuffed bear. But - Klaus was a packrat in his own way, for clothes at least and other useless items. Anything valuable had been stripped and sold long before Five had managed to get back and stop the apocalypse, before Klaus had decided to get clean. 

But a stuffed bear with frankenstein stitches holding his arm to his body wasn’t valuable, wasn’t worth pawning off. 

So Five got on his knees and dared to look in the one place he wouldn’t have imagined he’d ever go near - the cavern underneath Klaus’s bed that he wasn’t sure had been cleaned in a decade. Scowling, he tossed out some plates and a few creased and crinkled shirts. He kicked out what might have been a fuzzy jumper or might have been a mold civilization, he wasn’t too keen on looking closer to be sure one way or another. Several items made of leather (Five wondered for a split second why Klaus had so much leather in his closet but decided quickly that he didn’t want to know). 

But it wasn’t for nothing, because only a few minutes into his exploration of worlds unknown did he see the tip of a small fabric paw sticking out from under what appeared to be an entire duvet that had been stuffed under the bed for reasons unclear. All it took was snagging it and yanking himself out from under the bed with a pop and suddenly he was sitting in the middle of Klaus’s floor looking at his old friend.

Bear looked… different. Older, more worn. His left arm was still held in place with frankenstein stitches (Five was honestly shocked it had held up so long really), but he was missing fur on his face and one of his button eyes. It looked like someone had been rubbing away at it for a while, perhaps seeking comfort and drying tears on it after harrowing personal training sessions. The ear on that side was barely hanging on by a few strands of hot pink thread (and of course Klaus would find hot pink thread, an obnoxious color). 

Five sat frozen for a minute, with Bear cradled in his hands. But Bear was giving him an expectant look which had Five hurriedly brushing them both off and gently setting his oldest friend on Klaus’s bed. Maybe he should have felt silly, but Bear was giving him an inquisitive look and suddenly Five didn’t feel silly for seeking out the old bear at all.

“I’m uh, I’m back.” Five said dumbly, wincing. He rubbed at his arm, “It’s been - it’s been a long time I know. Even longer for me, you know! I didn’t mean to - ” To leave, to forget Bear, to not let his friend know that he’d been back for a while now. It felt callous to admit to his friend’s face that he’d forgotten all about him until that little girl passed by on the street.

Bear’s single button eye softened. Bear had always been good about understand the circumstances, even if he wasn’t often happy with them.

But suddenly, Five didn’t want any sympathy or kindness from Bear. Not when he was sitting in the middle of Klaus’s room, Klaus who was trying so very hard to get clean and get a grip on his powers for the first time in so very long. Klaus who smiled like he was surprised any time anyone showed him even the slightest consideration or affection. Klaus who was always braced for rejection as though he expected it.

“You _promised_.” Five accused, feeling heat build behind his eyes that he had to take a second to blink back. He was - he was angry. He was eight years old and looking at his first and only friend, already knowing that he would give him up to make his brother stop crying. He was fifty eight and he knew that it would never have been enough. 

Bear didn’t say anything to that, and Five could feel his voice get angrier, “You promised me you’d look after him, Bear. You said you were serious about it, you _said_.”

It was a promise imagined by a child to make himself feel better about giving away a toy, but it had been incredibly real at the time. 

Bear’s single eye seemed to look right through him, and Five looked away. 

“You know I didn’t mean to leave. I know - I know it must’ve made things a lot harder. But I tried!” Five’s face scrunched up as he realized exactly what it meant that he’d left. “Shit. There was no one to distract him anymore, Klaus and Ben must’ve - ” Five sucked in a big breath through his teeth, “Was it - was it my fault? No one’ll actually say what happened, just that it was bad. D’you think - d’you think if I’d been there then maybe - ” 

He can’t finish the sentence, can’t even verbalize the fact that maybe if he hadn’t left then Ben wouldn’t have died. But without him there was no magic trick directing Reginald’s attention away from his more delicate brothers, no one taking the punishments to allow them the smallest of breaks. 

But Bear’s look wasn’t accusing, it was soft and it was adamant and it was something familiar on his friend’s face.

Five swiped at the tears that had spilled onto his cheeks. “Yeah, I know. It’s Dad’s fault. But - ”

Bear didn’t allow for but’s and stared at him disapprovingly. 

“We weren’t talking about me, anyway.” Five waved his hand. Bear was good at getting him off tract, distracting him from his melancholy thoughts. It had been his job when Five was little and shivering with bruises on his wrists and fear in his heart. “I come back and Klaus is on drugs? He’s more afraid than he ever was as a kid.” Suddenly Five felt vicious in his anger, lips drawing back in a snarl as he tacked on, “I bet Sir Bearington would’ve helped more.”

But he can’t even wait for Bear’s reaction before he’s apologizing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. I know it’s not just - did you help, did you help him at all?”

He looks at Bear’s one eye, the bare areas on his face from a child rubbing their face against his own, the hot pink thread and the worn and well-loved fur.

“Yeah.” Five sighed, “A stupid question I guess. You’re still here, aren’t you? And, you know.”

He didn’t have to bring up the fact that Bear had obviously been so very loved in the meantime, even though he’d been stuffed under the bed. That didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things, hiding away things they loved was practically second nature at this point, to the detriment of literally all their communication skills.

Five sighed deeply, dragging a hand across his face, “What do you think happened, Bear?” A paused, “No not what happened while I was gone. You know, what happened back then? Do you think Sir Bearington minds?”

Five looked into Bear’s single eye and sighed, gently picking up Bear and placing him just so against the pillows of Klaus’s bed. All comfortable like. “Yeah, ‘course he wouldn’t. He’d want what’s best for Klaus. But he’s not here, is he? And we’ve been slacking off.”

Bear gave him a look.

“You are not allowed to critique my methods, Bear.” Five sniffed, “And also the implications that I find Klaus to be annoying are - okay they’re very founded. Have you heard him talk? Just. The words he says. All the time. Ridiculous.”

Five rolled his eyes, “Whatever, Bear. This was your idea in the first place, you know. It’s not like Dad’s here anymore, anyway. The others don’t need us so bad.”

There’s a pause where they regarded one another carefully. Five sighed and reached out his hand to rub across Bear’s worn fur, “Okay, fair. He’s a bit of a disaster I know. Fucker almost split his head open this morning tripping over his own feet. I know he stuffed you under the bed ‘n all but - I think he still needs you, you know? He’s still got all those nightmares.”

Five took several steps back, leaving Bear propped against the pillows. “I’m going to leave you out, and you better keep your mouth shut about it, Bear. And you have to promise to help him still, okay? You’ve got a bit of Sir Bearington in you, and that’s going to have to be enough. If he stuffs you under the bed again, let me know. Okay?”

He took a deep breath, “Alright. Bye Bear.” A heartbeat of a pause before he quickly muttered, “Love you.” And then he jumped out of the room, not willing to give the stuffed animal a chance to respond, even if that response was only in his head.

He certainly didn’t notice Klaus and Ben crouching outside the door, wide-eyed and surprised.

_____________

 

Klaus was sitting on his bed, running his fingers over a worn and very loved stuffed bear. His fingers caught on the black thread holding the bear’s arm to his body. Klaus remembered that night, remembered when he’d managed to sneak Sir Bearington into the crypt with him.

It had been better than the other training sessions, having his teddy there with him to bury his face into and try and block out the ghosts. Christ, he’d only been eight. Just a little kid

And then Dad had come to fetch him, and seen the bear, and had a fit about childishness. And Klaus had known about the rules regarding the bears leaving their rooms, he’d _known_ but he’d done it anyway because Sir Bearington was supposed to chase away his nightmares and the mausoleum was nothing but one giant waking nightmare. It was an act born out of desperation and a child’s fear, a last ditch attempt at self-comfort.

But Dad had been so angry, and he’d grabbed Sir Bearington and Klaus had known that if he let go he’d never see his teddy again and so he’d just - held on. And then there had been that horrible tearing noise and suddenly it didn’t matter that Klaus had held on, things still fell to pieces in his hands anyway.

(Didn’t they always?)

And Dad had dragged him up the stairs even as he was in hysterics. Dad was never the most sympathetic person to anyone, let alone Klaus who even at eight had a pretty firm hold on the title of ‘family disappointment’. Dad just shoved him into his room angrily, leaving marks on Klaus’s arms that would become bruises given time - wasn’t he so lucky that their uniforms had long sleeves?

He remembered Five jumping into his room, Sir Bearington clutched in his hands and looking exhausted. Klaus had been too focused on his teddy (but it wasn’t his teddy really, was it). He’d assumed that Five’s exhaustion had to do with the marks on his wrists, raw and scraped. A sure sign of ‘supplemental training’ if Klaus’d ever seen one.

He hadn’t cared, he’d only had eyes for his own sorrow and loss back then. So _selfish._

Klaus ran his hands over Sir Bearin - over Bear’s face again. “Did you know?” He asked Ben quietly, tracing a slender finger over the teddy’s single button eye, “Did you know, Ben?”

Ben looked absolutely heartbroken as he shook his head. “No - I mean, I figured he, you know, acted out a lot to shield us. There was - there was a pattern to it, he was always worse when one of us was hurt or - or scared or, I don’t know. Dad would insult Vanya and suddenly Five was breaking the rules again, it wasn’t exactly subtle.”

“I never noticed.” Klaus looked up, tears gathering in his eyes, “Why didn’t I notice?”

“Shit,” Ben swore, coming over to hover by Klaus’s shoulder. Not quite touching him, but close enough that he could if Klaus chose to make him corporeal. “No, no Klaus. It was only obvious if you were already looking for a pattern. And you had enough on your plate back then, okay? It wasn’t your fault.”

“He gave me his _bear_ , Ben.” Klaus pointed out, shaky fingers going up to his face to brush away some stray tears.

He hadn’t noticed. It’s not like any of them had noticed, they didn’t go into one another’s rooms very often. But Klaus does remember them saying something about the bears and Five rolling his eyes. _“You guys still have those?”_ Five had said, _“Got rid of mine years ago”._

At the time Klaus had frowned but been unsurprised - Five was often quick to cast aside anything that didn’t hold his interest. Sometimes, Klaus had uncharitably thought that the only thing that Five loved was being better than everyone else. It’s not like he’d cared that much either, he was happy to let Five made grabs for attention when it kept the spotlight off of him, but if Ben was right and that was _purposeful -_

Sometimes, Klaus wondered if any of them really knew their youngest (oldest) brother at all.

Ban squared his shoulder, lips drawing into a scowl. “I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad he’s dead and he can never touch us again.”

They didn’t need to specify who ‘he’ was between them. 

“My power is literally seeing the dead.” Klaus pointed out, even though Dad hadn’t shown up until Klaus himself had actually died (and wasn’t that just typical, forcing Klaus to go to him instead of meeting his son halfway) it wasn’t out of the question that Dad might show up again.

Ben tilted his chin up defiantly, “If he does show up we’re going to figure out if one ghost can tear another apart. I think I’d have the advantage in that case.” He gestured lightly to his abdomen from which he could unleash interdimensional horrors even as a ghost, as evidenced by the concert hall confrontation. 

But it did make Klaus bark out a startled laugh and broke the solemn mood, which was what Ben intended in the first place.

Klaus ghosted his hands across the black stitches on Bear’s arm thoughtfully, “Should I give him back? It’s not like Five gave me something he wasn’t attached to. I mean, you heard him - that wasn’t someone who didn’t care.”

For as long as Klaus had gone without Sir Bearington, he found himself reluctant to give up his longtime companion even after finding out that it wasn’t the original Sir Bearington. After all, he’d only had Bearington for what, two years? Before Reginald tore him away? That mean that this Bearington had been his companion for far longer anyway.

So he was thankful when Ben shook his head. “No. You know what Five’s like about perceived rejection. He’s - he’s more delicate now, than he was back then.”

Klaus tilted his head, conceding the point. No matter how much knowledge was crammed in that tiny head, Five was broken in so many ways. His social skills were severely stunted - it was like Five didn’t know how to exist without something to fight, whether that be Reginald, the Commission, or the fight of trying to get back to them while surviving on his own.

It wasn’t like the family didn’t notice, no matter how hard Five tried to hide (though it did make Klaus wonder just how much Five _successfully_ hid from them on top of what he didn’t) it wasn’t like any of them were blind. 

They’d gone to the park a week ago and Klaus had watched with careful eyes and a broken heart as Five wonderingly brushed his hands against flower petals and tore off tiny bits of his sandwich to feed some birds, looking at them as if he’d never seen one before.

It was just a terrible reminder that even though he was chronologically older than the rest of them, he was terribly young and inexperienced in so many ways. He’d only watched a movie in the cinema for the first time a few weeks ago, scowling when Klaus insisted on getting the buttery cinema popcorn for the _full_ experience while Luther suggested they sit at the back so no one would have to try and peer around him. It had been a good day, a brilliant day, and when they’d gotten out Five had smiled to widely and genuinely that it had taken the whole family’s breath away for a moment.

“So what do we do?” Klaus said finally, uncertain. 

Ben tilted his head, deep in thought. He knew what Klaus meant, they couldn’t just let this kind act go unnoticed. Couldn’t let Five’s efforts go unacknowledged. “Well…” Ben started uncertainly, “He gave you his bear - maybe you can give him something back. Equal exchange, he can’t argue with that.”

Klaus shot up, already whipping out his phone to go online, “Ben you’re a fucking genius.” 

And if several days later, a package arrived that Klaus ended up presenting to Five, and that package contained a soft stuffed cat which Five accepted with some confusion, then that was neither here nor there.

And if Ben caught Five in Klaus’s room introducing his new stuffed cat (which was, for reasons unknown, dubbed “my boy” by the sibling in question) to the bear which now had a place of honor on Klaus’s bed - well. 

It was a long way from the acknowledgement that Klaus and Ben wanted to give, but it was something that Five at least accepted. And that would have to be enough for them.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just,, take it,,,, please,,,, i am tired,,,,,
> 
> i'm glad reggie is dead!! also it's more difficult than you think writing a one sided conversation  
> also if u think i'm not shoehorning in my boy the cat into every universe u are incorrect
> 
>  
> 
> as usual if u see any grammar errors or spelling errors yeet them my way for fixing ;3c


End file.
